


Decontaminating Canamar

by AgtSpooky



Category: Star Trek: Enterprise
Genre: Episode Related, Established Relationship, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-30
Updated: 2013-04-30
Packaged: 2017-12-11 19:34:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,320
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/802389
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AgtSpooky/pseuds/AgtSpooky
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Archer and Trip need to get clean after being on that prison transport ship.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Decontaminating Canamar

**Author's Note:**

> We never did get a decon chamber scene between Archer and Tucker, so I felt it was my duty to write one. ;-)

 

 

“Captain, my superiors will want a report on what happened...”

Captain Jonathan Archer stopped dead in his tracks, then stepped up right into the Enolian official’s face, eyes spitting fire, voice like steel.  

“I'll give you one right now. Kuroda's dead, the other eleven prisoners are under guard. As you're aware, my Engineer and I were falsely arrested. We almost wound up in Canamar. Makes me wonder how many others don't belong there. You wanted a report? You've got one.”

And with that he spun on his heel, gave a nod to Trip Tucker standing beside him and the two men stalked off down the corridor, T’Pol striding along behind them. As soon as they were out of the Enolian official’s sight Archer let his shoulders sag, the physically exhausting events of the last day catching up with him. And one look at his Chief Engineer confirmed Trip was just as wiped out. They both needed a shower and about 12 hours of uninterrupted sleep. Preferably wrapped around one another.

Archer reached out and squeezed Trip’s upper arm, getting a tired smile in response, but before he could say anything to the other man the ship’s comm system beeped.

“Phlox to Captain Archer.”

With a sigh Archer walked up to the closest comm station. “Archer.”

“Captain, will you and Commander Tucker please meet me outside the decon chamber?”

Archer hung his head at the same time he heard Trip groan behind him. “Doctor…”

“I’m sorry, Captain, but you and Mr. Tucker were first on an alien planet then on a transport with a variety of alien species. I need to be certain that you have not brought any harmful microbes aboard.”

T’Pol spoke up. “It is only prudent that the doctor scan you both so that you do not unnecessarily endanger the crew with a contagion.”

Archer glanced at Trip, who shrugged. Sometimes he really hated Vulcan logic.

“Very well, Doctor, we’ll be right there.” He turned to T’Pol. “You have the bridge.”

The Vulcan nodded and moved past the two men, who detoured from the path to their quarters and made their way to the decon chamber instead. Weariness pulled at their every step and Trip sagged gratefully against the bulkhead next to the door when they arrived.

“Even my hair hurts,” the southerner drawled.

“Hopefully this will only take a minute and we can grab a shower and some sleep. Sound good?” Archer replied.

“Throw in a thick slice of prime rib and mashed potatoes and you’ve got yourself a deal.”

“What, you didn’t enjoy our lunch?” Archer asked, then chuckled at Trip’s irritated expression.

Phlox came around the corner then, medical scanner already in hand. “It’s good to see you both in one piece. The entire crew was concerned about you.”

“It’s good to _be_ in one piece,” Trip replied.

Phlox took note of the various cuts and bruises on the two men’s faces. “How are your physical injuries?”

“Don’t worry about us,” Trip answered. “Just a few bumps. Nothing we can’t handle.”

“How are we looking, Doc?” Archer asked as Phlox scanned first himself, then Trip, noticing the frown on the Denobulan’s face.

“I’m afraid you’ve both picked up various microbes. Especially you, Mr. Tucker.”

Trip straightened up from his position against the bulkhead. “It was Zoumas! I know it! That alien gave me cooties!”

Phlox looked confused. “Cooties?”

Archer tried to suppress a grin and failed spectacularly. “I don’t know, are you sure? Could have been your Nausicaan friend.”

Trip shot him an annoyed glance. “Funny, really funny.”

This time Archer laughed and clapped Trip on his shoulder. “C’mon, let’s get this over with.” He turned to Phlox as the doctor opened the decon chamber door and the two men stepped inside, the door sliding closed behind them.

Phlox looked in through the window and pressed the comm button. “You know the routine, gentlemen. Please use decon gel “C”. I’ll return in 15 minutes.”

Archer nodded as Trip shrugged out of his dark red leather jacket. “Give us some privacy, Doc?”

“Oh, of course,” Phlox replied, then closed the view screen at the same time as the lights in the chamber turned blue.

Trip dropped his jacket into the bin with a _plop_. “The perfect end to a perfect day,” he commented with a sarcastic sigh, next stripping off his blue shirt, followed by the rest of his clothing. Archer stood next to him removing his own leather jacket and shirt until the two men were clad in nothing but their Starfleet issue neon blue briefs.

Archer moved in close and laid a hand on the side of Trip’s face, then kissed the younger man softly. “Hey,” he whispered.

Trip smiled tiredly, resting his forehead against Archer’s. “Hey.”

Archer stepped back slightly, frowning, running gentle fingers over the bruise on Trip’s temple and jaw, the cut on his forehead and the slight burn marks on his wrists from the electric shock the restraints had delivered. His frown deepened when he spied the much larger bruise on Trip’s shoulder from where he had been shot. Thank God the weapon had been set on stun. Seeing the younger man’s injuries brought Archer’s anger right back to the surface.  “Are you okay?” he asked tightly. 

Trip tipped his head to the side. “I could ask you the same thing,” he replied, fingers skimming over the abrasion on Archer’s temple that extended all the way down to the top of his cheek. “We put up a hell of a fight, didn’t we?”

Archer thought back to the struggle on the shuttlepod. “I let the Enolian’s off too easy,” he said angrily, turning and snagging a canister of the decon gel.

Trip dipped his fingers into the semi-thick substance and began smearing it on his arms and legs. “How the hell did we go from a successful first contact and two days of amazing R&R to being abducted and thrown on a prison transport?” He threw up his arms. “Why do people keep insisting on shooting at us?” Then as if his words took his last amount of energy, the engineer sagged, shoulders dropping, head falling forward.

“That’s the million dollar question, isn’t it?” Archer replied, turning the younger man around, spreading the decon gel across smooth, broad shoulders, then swiping down the long back.

Trip groaned softly, one arm reaching out to the wall to steady himself. “Mmm…that feels good.”

Encouraged, Archer pressed a little harder, massaging Trip’s tight, sore muscles. “Thought you might like that,” he smiled, reaching for more gel. This time, though, he reached around and ran his palms up Trip’s chest, making sure his thumbs brushed both of the other man’s nipples. He heard Trip’s intake of breath and stepped closer, his legs now brushing against the engineer’s. Archer repeated the action, hands gliding slowly, slickly up Trip’s chest then down to his waistband, fingers dipping just inside the briefs. “Like that?” he murmured against Trip’s ear, placing a kiss just behind it.

“You know I do,” Trip breathed, placing both hands on the wall and pressing back against Archer.

This time it was Archer who pulled in a breath at the feel of Trip’s ass pushing against his groin. He could already feel the blood rushing there, his cock starting to stir. He quickly reached to the side and coated both hands with more gel.

“Those microbes could be hiding anywhere, you know,” Archer said, one slick hand sliding down further into Trip’s underwear. “Better make sure we get this gel everywhere…” he trailed off, cupping the younger man’s balls in his hand, rolling them, tugging just slightly.

Trip gasped sharply and pushed his head back against Archer’s shoulder. “Shit…Jon…”

“I think I may have missed a spot,” Archer said, voice low, his hand now moving upwards, fingers curling around Trip’s hardening cock. He squeezed gently and Trip jerked back against him.

“More…please, Jon…”

Never one to deny his young lover anything, Archer stroked firmly up Trip’s shaft, feeling it grow and lengthen against his palm inside the confines of the younger man’s briefs. Trip pushed his hips into Archer’s grip, then back against his captain’s groin.

Archer groaned at the sensation of the younger man’s ass pressing against his now fully erect cock and he wanted nothing more than to bury himself inside Trip. But not now, not yet. So instead he picked up the pace of his stroking, and Trip’s breathing stuttered when he pressed his thumb against the head of his cock, then against the slit.

“Feels so damn good, Jon…just like…” he trailed off.

“What? What are you thinking about?”

“Mmm…the beach…” Trip panted, eyes closed, falling into memory. “…on Keto-Enol…”

And instantly Archer was right there with him back on that deserted, sun drenched pink sand beach just two days ago. Watching as Trip emerged from the water, droplets glistening on his skin, his blond hair, his blue eyes bright, wearing swimwear that was so small he might as well have been naked. The sight was so erotic that Archer didn’t even let Trip reach their blanket, instead pulling them both down to their knees as he kissed the younger man hungrily, jerking him off right there in the sand as the water swirled around them.

“I’m going to make you come just as hard,” Archer vowed, voice dropping an octave.

“God, yeah…do it…” Trip pleaded, voice thready as his orgasm started to build inside him.

Wanting nothing more than to feel Trip fall apart in his arms, Archer moved his other gel-slick hand from the other man’s hip up his chest to play with his nipple, rolling it between his fingers, tugging slightly on the rock-hard nub. Trip jerked at the sensation and Archer felt wetness on his fingers on his next upstroke, felt his own cock leak at the sounds Trip was making as Archer pushed him toward climax.

“Don’t…don’t stop…” Trip moaned, eyes squeezed closed. Archer felt him start to tremble, knew he was right there on the edge.

“That’s it…just let go,” Archer encouraged, squeezing Trip’s cock just a little more as he stroked, then pinched his nipple between his fingers.

The engineer gave a sharp cry at the increased stimulation then stiffened against Archer an instant before his cock pulsed in Archer’s hand over and over, coating it in slick wetness.

“Jon…Jon…” Trip panted as he came, hips stuttering as Archer continued to stroke him through his climax.

The sight, sound and feel of his lover falling into orgasm was nearly Archer’s own undoing. He felt his cock leak again and he squeezed his eyes shut, willed himself not to come.

Trip’s cock had barely stopped pulsing and he was turning around, Archer’s hand still in his briefs, now sliding around to cup his ass instead. The engineer pushed the captain against the wall, claiming his mouth hungrily, grinding his groin against Archer’s erect cock. Archer gasped into the kiss, pulling the younger man more firmly against him, wanting Trip to touch him, wanting to be _in_ him…

…when the lights turned from blue to white.

Both men sprang apart from one another as if they’d been electrocuted and not a second too soon as the view screen slid open to reveal Doctor Phlox. Archer tried to calm his breathing, saw Trip struggling to do the same, but he knew they looked like two kids caught with their hand in the cookie jar.

But Phlox, ever the professional, paused for only a brief moment and Archer could have sworn he saw the corner of the doctor’s mouth raise slightly in amusement.

“Captain. Commander. You’ll be pleased to know that the bio-scans are now negative. You’re free to go. I’ve taken the liberty of having fresh uniforms brought into the locker room for you.”

Trip cleared his throat. “Thanks, Doc, appreciate that.”

Phlox nodded and pressed the button to open the decon chamber door, then turned and walked away as Archer started for the open doorway. But Trip stepped in his path, reaching out and cupping Archer through his briefs.

“I’m not done with you yet,” he drawled, then winked and made his way toward the locker room and the showers.

Archer swallowed and felt his cock throb in anticipation and quickly followed after his engineer. He had no more than made it inside the shower room when he was manhandled into one of the large stalls and his briefs pulled quickly down around his ankles. Before he could utter a word an equally naked Trip slapped the water control and pinned him against the wall. 

“Now where were we?” Trip smirked, heat in his gaze, before claiming Archer’s mouth once more, warm water cascading down around them.

And Archer was right there, back on that beach, in the water, Trip in his arms.

He returned the kiss just as forcefully, cupping Trip’s ass, one finger searching out his most intimate spot, seeking entrance. He pressed against the puckered muscle and Trip groaned into the kiss. That was all the encouragement Archer needed. He broke the kiss then turned them around under the spray, Trip now facing the wall, hands braced against it, the decon gel washing away down the drain. Archer ran his hands up Trip’s smooth, water slick back, to his shoulders, then back down again, the younger man arching under his touch, pushing back against him. Archer’s rock hard cock slid between Trip’s thighs and he groaned. He couldn’t take much more of this. He needed to be inside Trip _now_. Moving one hand down lower his finger sought out the younger man’s entrance once again, this time not hesitating.

Trip’s breath caught in his throat as Archer stretched him, first with one finger, quickly followed by a second. He pushed back eagerly as Archer added a third, his body jerking when Archer pressed against that spot deep inside. Trip spread his legs wider, pushing back harder onto Archer’s fingers, hips stuttering.

“Now, Jon…please,” he practically begged. “Want you in me so damn bad…”

Archer leaned over his engineer’s back, mouth against his ear. “This is what I really wanted to do to you on that beach, in the water,” he growled as he removed his fingers and pressed the head of his water slick cock against the puckered muscle and pushed - finally, _finally_ sliding inside his young lover.

Twin moans echoed in the steam heavy air as Archer filled Trip completely, intimately. He paused for a moment, reveling in the feel of Trip’s tight, hot body gripping his cock, arching his body back slightly into the water, and closed his eyes. Only to open them back up again a few seconds later when Trip shifted against him.

“God, Jon…move…” Trip ground out, fingers flexing against the wall.

Archer tightened his grip on Trip’s slim hips and pulled back just an inch. “Like that?” he teased, but in truth was barely holding on to his control.

Trip growled deep in his throat. “Oh, screw you, Cap’n…”

“I think you’ve got that backwards, Commander,” Archer replied with a smirk, then proceeded to slide his cock nearly completely out of Trip’s body, before pushing all the way back in in one smooth, hard stroke.

Trip cried out as Archer set up a fast rhythm, pushing his own hips back in counterpoint. “Harder, Jon…c’mon…”

And Archer complied, wanting to get as deep inside Trip as he could. He straightened up and looked down to where they were joined, watching in erotic fascination as his cock pushed in and out, Trip’s body pulling him in. Keeping one hand on the engineer’s hip, he reached down to run a finger around the tightly stretched muscle and felt Trip shiver in response.

“Do…do that again…” Trip swallowed deeply.

Archer used his thumb this time, rubbing the skin a little harder and Trip sucked in a quick breath.

“God, Trip, I wish you could see this…” Archer breathed, putting both hands back on the younger man’s hips, pistoning his own, his arousal now reaching a fever pitch.

He could feel the first tinglings of his orgasm building inside, at the base of his spine, deep in his balls, and he welcomed the sensations, knew blissful release was close behind. He faltered slightly in his rhythm, felt his heart pounding in his chest. “Trip…oh, God…I…I…” he rambled, eyes closing.

“Yeah, Jon…do it…c’mon…wanna feel you come…” Trip encouraged him and a second later Archer felt him clamp down with his internal muscles, squeezing Archer’s cock.

And the wave crashed over Archer, sweeping him over the edge into climax with a sharp cry, his cock swelling then pulsing again and again, filling Trip with slick, wet heat. It seemed to go on forever, the waves continuing to roll through him. He felt Trip shaking against him and he wrapped his arms around the younger man, holding him close as he let himself drift in the ecstasy of release. 

It was the feel of the water falling on his skin that brought Archer back to himself long minutes later. He raised his head from where it was resting against one of Trip’s shoulders and placed soft kisses against the smooth, wet skin of the other man’s back, heard him sigh contentedly. Then with much regret he shifted his hips back, letting his cock slip slowly from the younger man’s body, Trip now groaning in protest at the loss. He turned as Archer stepped back, leaning fully up against the wall and Archer moved back toward him, their arms pulling each other close. Archer closed his eyes as Trip dipped his head slightly, falling into the long, slow kiss.

When they eventually pulled back Archer opened his eyes to see his chief engineer smirking at him, amusement lighting up his blue eyes. He arched his eyebrow in question and Trip chuckled.

“What d’ya say we get covered in microbes more often?”

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

 

Decontaminated, freshly showered, and now completely sated, Archer and Trip fell gratefully into bed in the captain’s quarters, limbs entwined, exhaustion once again making itself known. Porthos jumped up onto the bed and made himself comfortable laying against their feet, tail wagging happily. Archer could feel sleep just about to claim him when Trip started talking.

“What the hell did the Enolian’s think we were smugglin’, anyway?” Trip mused. “I didn’t see what they took out of the compartment.”

Archer considered not answering, pretending to be asleep, but knew Trip would just ask him again in the morning. So he bit the bullet instead.

“It was the bourbon,” he mumbled against Trip’s shoulder.

Trip disentangled himself from Archer, rolling on his side to face him fully. “The _what_? You put another bottle back in there? You _had_ another bottle? And didn’t _tell_ me?”

Archer cocked his head, amused. “We might be out here for years. Did you really think I only brought one bottle of bourbon with me?”

“Well….well the least you could have done was share it with me,” the engineer stuttered, practically pouting.

“After you and Malcolm drank my last one?” Archer teased.

“Hey! Those were extenuating circumstances!” Trip protested.

Archer smiled. “Calm down, Commander. I had every intention of sharing that bottle with you. I snuck it on the shuttlepod before we left, wanting to surprise you with it when we were on Keto-Enol. And then I went and completely forgot about it when we were grabbing our bags.”

Trip looked mollified by Archer’s answer. “Well…okay. You’re forgiven,” he replied with a smile, then rolled onto his back, Archer slipping an arm around his waist.

It was silent for several minutes, Archer once again slipping off into sleep when Trip’s voice roused him again.

“Umm, Jon? Please tell me you brought _three_ bottles on this mission.”

 

**THE END**


End file.
